Civil Protection
by Crazy Sangheili
Summary: This is about John Sullivan and his adventures as being a Civil Protection Officer.


Civil Protection

Prologue

City 23

John Sullivan was walking down the street. His was stomach growling, but then again he was always hungry. John was lucky if he could catch a headcrab and they don't taste like crab. The problem about hunting headcrab is that they might couple with your head and no one wants to experience that. John was sitting on a bench on a cold night just he shook his head and thought yes truly things were awful after the Seven Hour War.

John then started to think about it even though he wasn't even four it happened was still something close to him. After all John's father had fought in that war for the US. Then afterward he was forced into the conquering aliens military. The aliens were the combine it was pronounced COM-bine. John unlike most people had been lucky enough never to have a memory wipe. That was largely due to him knowing that drinking the water, even the ones people buy every day, was a bad idea. John had always carried a purifier something illegal.

That made John a target but since no one knew he had it he was alright. As John sat there an APC drove by stopping and around ten Civil Protection troops poured out. They were on yet another raid. City 23 was after all a dead end where Civil Protection or CPs for short beat citizens out of boredom.

Civil Protection was the police and they often ruled by terror. Still they were just like any other human caught up in the vicious cycle of Combine rule. You actually had to feel sorry for them because either they would stay at their current rank or become inhuman as the Combine 'improved' them with implants and other surgical operations. John noticed a CP come after him with his stun baton glowing light a night stick of death.

John started down an alley it was a bad move. The CP followed but stopped and dropped his baton for his pistol. A zombie the resulting thing of a headcrab coupling with a head came rushing out.

The CP yelled, in his radio like voice that was made with by the white mask they wore "Oh…!"

The black-green uniformed man didn't have time to finish. The zombie with its sharpened and elongated fingers quickly tore through the Civil Protection unit's bulletproof vest promptly killing him. Then the zombie turned toward John realizing his only way to live was to use the CPs pistol John dived right past the slow moving zombie. John was in his in his late teens and could easily out run a zombie but then again a sixty year old probably could.

John picked up the pistol and fired aiming for the head of the zombie. The host which was the headcrab would engulf the victim's entire head. John first shot missed but the last three bullets in the clip hit their mark killing the zombie.

A CP came from behind and said in that same radio like voice that all Combine Forces had "Drop your weapon, citizen."

John gulped at the thought of what the CP would do to him.

The CP once again, this time with more force, said "Drop your weapon."

John had forgotten to drop his weapon he quickly complied.

The CP said "With shooting like that you should join the Civil Protection. Now, on your way you've proven your innocence with your actions. Most would've run away anyway, now go before I change my mind."

John nodded and left inside a building. He heard another CP arrive and the two Policemen talked. While John couldn't differentiate the two voices he could follow the conversation.

One CP asked "Well, what happened here?"

The other CP replied "Just another zombie attack. Funny isn't that we probably caused this problem to become so widespread in the city."

The first CP to talk replied "Yup, it sure is but it's more like a harsh irony."

The conversation turned into lackluster chitchat. John moved around the building that once belonged to the zombie in the alley. The building use to be a small Resistance outpost but the CPs quickly took it out by shelling it and other buildings. John saw the spot where the shell landed in fact it was still there. Combine shells didn't exploded no they let something worse do the job. In fact a few weeks ago a town named Ravenholm was shelled. It was so overwhelmingly shelled that the place became an infested town that no one went to.

John laid down on a mattress he fell a sleep. When he woke up it was daylight and the building the CPs had raided the other night was utterly wrecked. John sat there hungry. Then he started to think about what the CP had said the other night. John was going to laugh at the idea but then reality hit him. The CPs got good plentiful food, warm shelter, and good clothes. John looked at his clothes they were light blue, tattered, and worst of all it was muddy. It also had a number on it John never cared to read it though. John came to a revelation that joining the Civil Protection was truly the best thing to do.

The CPs weren't altered they could refuse promotions so they didn't always have become an inhuman brute. John immediately went downstairs and headed for barracks six the precinct headquarters of the CPs. The place was on the far end of the precinct. The walk was long, very long, and every once in a while a scanner would take John's picture. John finally came upon the building it wasn't rundown like the rest of the city, hell it was a palace.

A CP at the door asked "Are you joining up or looking for a beating?"

John quickly replied "Joining up."

The CP then snapped "Get in then and seek Fredrick Smith."

John walked in the barracks had heating and the smell of roast beef filled the air. The place had fine green couches. Outside of each room were two planets it was a palace by any and all means. Another CP mumbled something and pointed towards Fredrick's office it was nicer then the others. The room had a window, two beautiful paintings and plants at each of the room's five corners. The desk in the middle was metal with a computer on top of it. The chair that Fredrick was sitting in was green and by the looks of it leather.

Fredrick himself had his mask and feet resting on the desk. He was also reading a newspaper the front read the words 'City 39 Overrun by Monstrous Parasitics!'

Fredrick threw down the paper and asked John, in a normal more human voice "Name, date of birth, uniform," Fredrick quickly pulled out a fine bag that fit tightly around the uniform and other accessories of the CPs. Fredrick then continued "place of birth, and tell me if you'd like to receive an added bonus by accepting a memory wipe."

John replied "John Sullivan, March 6, 1995, Kansas City," John saw Fredrick raise an eyebrow at him and then John correct himself "I mean City 19, and no to the memory wipe, sir."

Fredrick laughed and said "Well, so long as you don't piss off the wrong people you'll fit in quiet nicely. Here report to Squad room 760 you're now official Unit 769. Welcome and be glad we call each other by our real names when not in formal situations."

Fredrick then sat back down and picked up his newspaper. John was walk toward his squad room when a man being held by two CPs came screaming through.

The CPs put the prisoner to the wall and then looked at John and said "You there pull out your pistol and kill this man."

John replied with a slight amount of reluctance "We should do this in a more fitting place?"

The two CPs replied "Your right." They kicked down a door to a room that had its own bloody appeal. The one of the two CPs said "Okay fire."

John realizing he had no alterative aimed and fired giving one shot to the pitiable man's head. The CP then pulled off his mask and said "Welcome, I see you're new. Well I'm squad commander of Squad 760."

John replied "Really because then I've been assigned to your squad."

The Commander replied "Excellent, my name is Jacob Higgins, but officially I'm Unit 760."

John asked "Who's that?"

Jacob answered "One of your squad mates Edward Conrad."

Edward said "Yes, but I'm also called Unit 765."

John shook each of the two men's hands after exchanging his part of the greetings.

John asked "So who was that?"

Jacob replied with a sad tone of voice "Just some poor old man. I'm glad you at least tried to throw up some form of resistance. Come on I'll show you to our squad's room."

Jacob, Edward, and John all moved around the barracks. John noted the infirmary, armory, and interrogation rooms. Jacob and Edward stopped at the squad's room. It was like all the other rooms except it broke off into three rooms which in turn broke off into five rooms. There nine squad members each in three fire teams. Three men made up a fire team they all had their own rooms, but shared a shower/dressing room, and an armory.

John changed into his uniform it was a little loose but that was because he needed growing space. John then holstered his pistol and manhack. The manhack was three hovering fast spinning blades that could go through flesh and wood with ease. The pistol was a USP Match it could fire as fast as the shooter pulled the trigger. It also could fire under water. His white mask allowed him to listen to radio chatter and it changed the sound of his voice.

Jacob said to another man "Okay, I understand." Jacob turned toward the squad room and yelled "Alright, since there's a new member we now going to the practice range."

John heard some mumbles and groans. That was because most of the CPs in the room were trying to sleep. John figured that the system was 768 and him were led by 767 as fire team leader so he went up to Unit 767.

John said "Sir, I'm John Sullivan or Unit 769. I'm apart of your fire team."

Unit 767 replied "Well, good to know you're not an idiot." Unit 767 turned around and then continued "Yes, I'm your fire team leader. I'm also not going to be called Unit 767 so call me Sam Williams. I hope you enjoy being one Wallace Breen's servant."

John shivered at the thought of Wallace Breen. Breen was the man that negotiated the surrender of Earth and in exchange he became the evil tyrant that rules Earth with the iron fist of the Combine. Breen did daily speeches on why what the Combine was doing was good and for the better of humanity. He often got letters about the suppression fields. John walked around and greeted his newfound friends and comrades. Then Jacob had them assemble and march in line all the way to the practice range. On the way there John thought is will truly be the best decision he had ever made.


End file.
